hey mister
if you see
a man tortured by al quida spies
what does that man need?
a bottle of whiskey
relieve his misery
and let him be
then, a product of stupidity
it was a bottle of jack
walking by from mister black
ten bux flat
that sh*t been jacked
with the security attached
and we would be licking jack
from the concrete cracks
treading on broken gla**
bliss and a bloody mess
hey mister
he say to me
can you k** me?
as payee won't give me enough money
or i would be dead and gone
needed to give him a bong
i frowned
he shook
so i took
rolled a fat one from the pack
offered a match
sir, you would be my angel
if you got
a big fat shot
that will make my heart stop
as i am suffering here
i needed to find him a beer
and he faded into the night
his spirit will not die